


selective memory

by bluewalk



Series: 30_onepiece: Sanji [4]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluewalk/pseuds/bluewalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[#19 zipper] <em>magnanimous in youth</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	selective memory

“You can’t tell anyone else, okay? It’s supposed to be a secret.”

He nodded eagerly. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I swear.”

“Really?”

“Really, _really_!”

The girl looked at him skeptically. In the kitchens, Zeff was berating Carne for scratching up one of his pans. There was a lot of banging and clanging going on, and Sanji didn’t doubt that by the end of the day, half their kitchenware would be dented beyond repair and completely unserviceable. He wished they’d just shut up and sit their asses down for half a second, drink some goddamned tea. He could barely hear himself think over the racket. Honestly, and they were supposed to be the adults.

“Well.” The girl hesitated, giving him a sideways look as she tugged on one of her braids. “All right,” she conceded. “But remember you promised!”

“Jeez, I know!” Sanji rolled his eyes and scooted closer, resting his chin on his knees. “Who would I tell anyway? Patty? Pfft.”

“Who’s Patty?”

“Useless bastard.”

“Oh.” The girl considered this. “What about your friends?”

“I don’t have friends. Unless you count those assholes in the kitchen. Which I don’t.”

“Who do you play with, then?”

Sanji huffed. He’d seen the kids that came in with their parents to eat at the Baratie. Snot-nosed and spoiled and juvenile, the lot of them, although this girl might be different. “I don’t _play_ ,” he grumbled. “I’m too busy to _play_ , so I don’t need friends. Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know,” the girl answered honestly. “But as long as you won’t tell, you can be anyone you want.”

“For the last time, I _won’t_.”

“All right.” She smoothed down her dress and cast a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening, though Sanji could have reassured her that no one would be able to hear anything over the uproar of Zeff disciplining his kitchen staff. “You know mermaids, right?”

Sanji scoffed. _Did he know mermaids_. Seriously. Even at the tender age of twelve, he knew without a doubt that mermaids were the most magical beings to ever grace existence, and he’d spent many of his free hours peering down into the clear waters of East Blue in the hopes of catching a glimpse of a shimmering tail, or hair the color of red coral. Like she even had to _ask_ him if he knew _mermaids_.

“Well, Mama said when mermaids turn thirty, their tails split in two and they can walk on land! Isn’t that amazing?”

Everything in his tiny world ground to a screeching halt.

He shook his head and regarded her with disbelief, any hope he had now cruelly dashed on jagged rocks. “That’s stupid,” he snorted at last. “Mermaid tails don’t split. They spend their whole lives in the ocean, everyone knows _that_. How could their tails split? What, is there like a zipper or something? Where’d your mom hear something so stupid?”

“It’s not stupid! Mama heard it from a friend, who has a friend, who has another friend, who actually _is_ a mermaid, and her tail is split! So there!”

“Uh huh, and where exactly does this mermaid friend of a friend of a friend live?”

“I dunno, on an island somewhere in the Grand Line! She works as a secretary!”

“A secretary? You don’t really expect me to believe this bullshit, do you?”

“It’s true!” She screeched at him and looked alarmingly close to pummeling his face in. “It’s _true_ and _you’re_ the stupid one! Potty mouth!”

Sanji frowned and put his hands up, half to placate, half to defend himself if she decided to throw a punch. “Fuck—I mean, all right, all right! Don’t cry, okay? I’m sorry, I believe you!”

A chilling glare. “ _Do you_?”

“Yeah!” Sanji smiled his best smile, the one so wide that it showed his gums and crinkled his eyes. Zeff had said it made him look less like a menacing brat. “Mermaids get split tails when they’re thirty. That makes sense, if you really, _really_ think about it—I guess. Yeah, totally, like evolution or something. That’s awesome. I promise to keep this awesome secret from the world.” He made a zipping motion across his lips. “Mm?”

The girl sniffled hostilely at him. “Admit you’re the stupid one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m the stupid one. Sorry.”

All animosity evaporated in an instant as she beamed at him, and he suddenly felt his cheeks grow warm. Her smile outshone his by several million megawatts, of that he was sure. “All right then,” she giggled. “Now you can’t tell a soul! Mama says it would be a… a beach of trust.”

He couldn’t help but grin at her again, genuinely this time. He didn’t bother to mention that the trust had already been “beached” at least three times for her to hear about the mermaid with the split tail, if she even existed at all. He only said, “Okay, I promise,” and gave one of her braids a playful tug. “Thanks for telling me.”

She punched his arm for pulling her hair, but she looked at him thoughtfully. “When you do make friends one day, you can tell them too,” she decided, magnanimous in youth. “Maybe it can be a thing, between friends. I’m sure that would be okay, right? If we were friends and I told you about mermaids.”

“I guess,” he agreed. Then, hesitantly, “Are we friends, then?”

She smiled at him, crooked child’s teeth and sincerity. “We are now, stupid.”

“Oh. Okay, cool.” He cleared his throat and looked out over the water, hoping he could blame his blush on the orange-red glow of the setting sun. The din in the kitchens raged on. He turned to her, deciding to be brave. “Hey, have you heard of All Blue?”

“No, but it sounds pretty. Tell me about it!”

Later, after they had exchanged awkward, heartfelt goodbyes and he had watched her wave at him from the deck of a departing ship, his thoughts were not of mermaids, but of the knobby knees and long brown hair of the girl who had trusted him with a secret and promised they would be friends forever, despite the wideness of the sea. He was glad for this, but profoundly sad to see her go.

Friends were still strange to him, and she was his first in a long time, someone who hadn’t laughed at his All Blue. He supposed friends could be nice to have and to keep. He’d like to make more of them some day, if he could, just to see if they really were all they were cracked up to be. To see if he could be as happy with them as he should. To see if he could find others who believed in his dream.

If he could, he decided, that would mean more than all the secrets about mermaids in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 09 August 2011

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Chinese translation on "selective memory"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/398274) by [renata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/renata/pseuds/renata)




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